Quasimodo
by Gairo no Ai
Summary: An interpretation of the Quasimodo MV seen at the SHINee World Concert in Japan. Explanations as to the objects each member was holding, the emotions being expressed, and why they were crying over a lost love. Not really romance, more like a tragedy.
1. Foreword

Hello, Shawols!

I am sure you all are excited as I was watching our boys in their first solo concert, whether you were in person or saw it on HD Fuji TV. We all became so proud of our growing boys, seeing how well they preformed and how well-received they were. I was especially moved by the 'Quasimodo' music video, which has yet to be released by SM Entertainment, but it left me with a lot of questions.

Each member had a different object with them, and I felt the need to know what those object signified. I also wondered what sort of lost love SHINee was crying over, since they all expressed sorrow in a different way. And so, I created this short drabbles simply called 'Quasimodo'.

I will attempt to focus on each member, their object, and the background of their emotions. I also hope to easily connect each member to another, and maybe bring them together at the end. This is no love story, no couples, and no specific plot. Just an in depth analysis of the video.

If you wish to see it, you can go to /watch?v=ZxL8l-vDvAg&feature=related.

Please, enjoy!


	2. Key

…He was waiting at the intersection; staring absentmindedly at the blinking, red signal warning pedestrians not to cross. Seconds tip toed past him. But, eventually, it changed to a white signal. Around him, things began to shift forward. He, alone, remained frozen where he stood.

_That bitch_.

He allowed an uncontrollable snarl to curl his lips and furrow his brows, which created wrinkles along his porcelain forehead. Dozens of clashing images raced through his mind and they pierced like daggers. He felt sick seeing memories of her holding his hand, sharing his headphones, and entangled in the arms of **some stranger** replay over and over in the back of his mind.

_Cold-hearted bitch_.

He never believed in love. It was funny to see teenagers make promises they could never keep, or even bother to create a relationship in the first place. It was a** joke**. He could never love a girl who had no manners, cussing and being too honest with everyone. She wasn't popular, or even that pretty. They just did not suit each other. **He** was a joke, for starting to hope in a silly thing like love. He felt foolish when his heartbeat quickened at the sight of her.

_**It was all a joke**_.

He could've laughed. It was so hilarious, _really_! The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile, and any minute a chuckle would thrum from the depths of his throat. Any minute-

A tear slipped down his cheek, as he clutched a dozen red roses in his hand more firmly. The white tissue paper crackled under his touch. Rain drops began to fall, blurring the ink on the note he had scrawled out and shoved among the blossoms. It sloppily read, '_Happy Birthday. I love you. Key._' He could remember feeling nervous, writing such bold feelings out like that. It was the first time he could express himself so frankly. Maybe that's why his normally neat script turned out messy. Maybe, he shouldn't have written it at all.

A pain shot through his veins, and contracted his heart painfully tight. In a moment of weakness, he hunched forward and tried to dry his tears. But, every time he closed his eyes, he could only see her face. She wasn't looking at him. Why would she? They weren't suited for each other. It was someone else she watched. It was _always_ someone else.

The pain threatened to split his skull in half, as confusion and anger weighed his stomach down. Unable to maintain sanity, he cursed himself for being an idiot and screamed to the heavens. The roses slid from his grasp; inaudibly crashing to the ground. Rubbing his aching forehead, and letting out a choked sigh, he wondered when he had allowed himself to become such a gullible idiot.

He was a **joke**.

Did everyone know? Key cast his eyes to a figure sitting alone on the park bench. He _must_ have been there the whole time. The embarrassment only caused more tears to well in his eyes. All he could manage was a strangled "Aish…"

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><p>Just a little side note:<p>

Aish translates into "shit" or "damn".

Hope you enjoyed Key's Chapter, Taemin is next. It would also help me, as a writer, if you could review each chapter! Thank you~


	3. Taemin

...It was heavy. It wasn't _big_, but it weighed down on his palms as if it were the weight of the world.

Who knows how much time had passed him by? The only indicator of time was that it had been light out when he first sat down, and now it was dark. A whole sea of faceless people had come and gone, but not one of them mattered. He was waiting.

But it was so **heavy**.

The delicate scrap of stationary was curled between his palms; protected from the rain. If he squinted through the dim light of the streetlamp, he could read his name delicately written across the front. At the thought of it, his heartbeat quickened. His numb fingertips curled tightly around the parchment, and he tried to take a few shaky, deep breaths. He could feel the cold setting in at that moment. His clothes absorbed the freezing rain and cooled his fevered skin. Never in his entire life did he think that a piece of paper would hold him prisoner.

_What happened_?

This morning was a blur. He had fallen asleep next to her. Nothing perverted had happened. She understood. He had never had a girlfriend before, even though things like '_I love you_' came so naturally to him. He was ignorant. He fumbled to hold hands with her, and has only gone as far as to kiss her on the cheek. She would dismiss his awkwardness, though. She turned the other way so he wouldn't be embarassed. She _**understood**_ him.

When he awoke, the door had just clicked shut. He squinted through the bright sunshine, but he couldn't piece together what had happened. Eventually, he noticed her absence. She_ left_.

He went back to sleep, but the other side of the bed was still warm.

When he woke up again, he found the note on the kitchen counter. That's when he left. Suddenly, home felt very quiet. He supposed he was looking for her; wandering around with a note he had not yet read. He heard that when looking for someone or feeling lost, to wait in one place for a long time. Sooner or later, they were bound to show up. The bench looked like a good place. He could easily look for a familiar face in the crowd, and enjoy the nice weather.

But, it got cold. And quiet. He felt **more** lost than before.

He fingered at the edges of the paper pensively. Looking down, he found that he had begun to unfold it without thinking. Without actually reading the words, it looked very neat. Her handwriting was feminine and pretty. He supposed this was another difference between girls and boys.

'_Our anniversary is coming up. One year is a long time, right?_

_A long time._

_You never noticed my distance, but how could you? You're not experienced in love._

_I understand, but there is a guilt I can't bear any longer. It's so heavy._

_I don't know when it had started, when I began to see you as a brother or a friend._

_You never noticed, but I understand._

_I apologize for not telling you sooner, but I thought you would see._

_Don't wait for me, please. I'm not coming back._'

The air rushed out of his lungs too quickly and it left his mind blank. He stared down at the note, bringing it closer to make sure the words were real. Slowly, the paper began to bend and crackle noisily underneath his increasingly tight grasp. The rain water made some of the ink run onto his hand. He raised the hand, trying to cease the oncoming tears. It smelled _bitter_.

_A brothe_r? A brother. **Brother**.

He wouldn't sleep next to his sister, he wouldn't hold hands with a friend, his heart wouldn't ache over a trivial relationship like that. Even though he had difficulties, because he had no experience, it_ hurt_. His heart thudded painfully for his unrequited love. She **didn't** understand. **She didn't understand at all**.

He _loved_ her. And she didn't see that. She never bothered to **feel** it.

A sob racketed his body, but his hand muffled the choked noise that came out from his throat. The bitter smell of ink overwhelmed his senses, to the point that even his stomach began to feel bitter. He rested the note back onto his lap, carefully, because it was a 'goodbye'. Goodbyes were _fragile_ things. Goodbyes were just as delicate as hearts. He knew because it felt like broken glass running through his veins.

Taemin let his tears fall freely and cried out, thankful for the sound of a running car engine to drown out his sounds of sorrow. The car had been sitting there for a while, the engine was on but the car hadn't moved. The continuous noise meshed with his buzzing head, which was both comforting and painful.

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><p>Okay, another chapter is up!<p>

Yeah, Taemin is such an innocent boy. Jonghyun is coming up, next. Please, review! Thanks~


	4. Jonghyun

.._.'I have good news. I am getting married! You'll come, right? Promise me?'_

His tired and weak body heaved an exasperated sigh. His strength was draining by the second. He could feel it in his eyes. They were weighed down from the lack of sleep he had experienced over the last few nights. With one hand, he rubbed them to rid of the sleep that had built up. Ever since her announcement, he felt drained of energy and his moods were more irrational than they usually were.

But, didn't he have the **right** to feel this way?

It just _**did not**_ add up. For three years, he had given her his all. She thought of him as a fool. Since the beginning, he shamelessly flirted and joked about their future together. He was daring enough to talk informally and even intimately touch her without permission. At first, it came as a shock to the innocent girl. But, she _must_ have grown immune to his charms. It became more and more natural to cuddle while watching a cheesy romance movie, or hold hands leisurely on the street.

'_No, we don't date. It's just… not like that between him and I. Now, quit embarrassing me!'_

They were never "friends". They never had the chance to become something**more**, but there was this immense attraction whenever they were around each other. She laughed at the possibility of becoming committed to him, but _never_denied the possibility of it happening. She was too scared. Their relationship was delicate, and she didn't wish to spoil it. She couldn't take the chance, not on **him**.

'_I thought this would be good news. Why are you looking at me like that…?'_

He rested his hand on the steering wheel of the car. It was turned on, but he had never left the front of her house. He had just stormed out, turned the car on, and sat by himself to think. At some point, he rolled the window down to get some fresh air and calm his nerves. By now, the gas was probably running low. The little red vehicle wouldn't be able to get him all the way home, especially in the rain. His windshield wipers were rusted, and it would be nearly impossible to try driving with rain obscuring his vision. But, there was no where else to go but forward. He couldn't go back, now.

**And neither could she.**

Plucking a silver ring from his pocket, he fingered the cool metal around his palm a few times. It was nothing expensive. Her fiance had gotten her a gold band with a big diamond that sparkled as brightly as her eyes. He knew she_hated_ gold, but she smiled and wore the engagement ring with pride anyways. It just didn't add up.

'_What is this about, anyways? Do you think he would make such a bad husband for me?'_

His arm dangled out of the window. The sleeves of his dress shirt were getting spotted with water droplets. He _hated_ dressing up, but she said he looked the most handsome in a suit and tie. So, he wore it to her family's dinner party. The ring he had bought, as a means of asking for a chance from her, lingered in his pocket for a minute too long. **How** was he supposed to guess that her parents had arranged for her to be married? **How** was he to assume she would _actually_ say "yes"? **How** could she choose some _stranger_ over him?

He had been too scared. And, he ended up losing her to fear.

It wasn't** fair**. He knew** exactly **what she liked, from how much honey she preferred in her tea to her favorite dessert from the cafe' on the corner. He knew everything about her. And, she knew him. She knew he took his time and never rushed for anything. She knew she was _supposed_ to wait.

But, she didn't want to. She never **was** patient.

The ring fell from his grasp. It bounced off the black pavement with a clatter of metal against concrete…once, twice, and then landed in a puddle behind the car's front tire.

He covered his face and bit the tip of his thumb. A slight groan escaped his lips. His eyes welled up with tears of frustration. He was frustrated at **her**, for never giving him a chance. He was upset with** himself**, for not taking the initiative sooner. _**Just once**_, he wanted to show that they could have been decent together. The opportunity was gone, now. What he feared more, however, was a future of estrangement. He could perfectly envision strained smiles and awkward handshakes, avoiding eye contact and monotonously chatting about recent news. She was _already_ lost to him.

'_If you can't be happy for me, then just leave! Go!'_

If **marriage** didn't assure him of her becoming distant, than the **fight** that ensued between them in the privacy of her kitchen **did**. He _should have_congratulated her maturely, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Their hushed whispers escalated until she pointed him to the door. At that moment, it felt as the bleak future he imagined was inevitable, and he_ left_.

The tears began to fall, but he tried his best to put on a brave face. He drew his lips together, and took a deep breath. So many regrets tugged at the back of his mind.

**Should have**. _Could have_. _**Would have**_.

His hand banged against the steering wheel. Everything was unfair. Everything was ruined. Everything was lost. He rested his head on the wheel's cool leather, as the tears he had tried so hard to hold back fell down his cheeks and onto his lap. The shadows of people and their umbrellas passing by danced around his watery vision. They felt so far away. Even a man under his umbrella, standing only a few feet from him, looked like he was miles away.

Jonghyun regretted _everything_, and it pained him. He felt so far from where he had been, but refused to take another step forward. He was stuck, like the**parked car** or the **ring** in his pocket. _He lingered._

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><p>Ahhh! So sad. I cry every time I watch the MV and see my boys suffering.<p>

Anyways, Minho is next. Please, review each chapter! Thanks~


	5. Minho

…**What was he doing?**

A pair of glazed eyes watched rain droplets fall steadily into a puddle at his feet. They were transfixed on the movement of the water's ripples, which reminded him of miniature ocean waves. It looked very _peaceful_.

**Where was he?**

His mind snapped back to reality when a passerby stepped into the puddle and disrupted the rain's natural rhythm. He tried to grasp his surroundings: a sidewalk lit up by dim street lamps, a few strangers rushing to get out of the bad weather, and a phone booth. He **must** have wandered this far without thinking about his destination.

He sighed to himself. It was _late_. It was _cold_. It was _raining_. Even though he had an umbrella, which made him feel **safe**, the edges of his pants and tips of his shoes had already begun to take water in. He supposed **security** was really just **ignorance**. He _should_ head home, but he found himself disoriented. At first, he was _**sure**_ fresh air would bring back his focus. But, this weather drew a fog over his mind.

**When had his mind become so vague?**

Trying to clear his thoughts, he traced back through the day. Nothing seemed too out of the normal. He followed the same schedule almost every weekend. Wake up, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and then go visit his girlfriend. Sometimes, they hung out around the house. Today, while the sun was still shining, they had taken a walk through the park. The park was one of her favorite places because she liked to see the ducks and sit under the trees as they gained their leaves back from the harsh winter.

_**But**_, she was walking _slower_ than usual.

He slowed down the pace. He didn't mind. She probably wanted to enjoy her stroll, but then she began to take breaks. He turned around to find her looking at sprouts shooting up from the earth and taking deep breaths. He asked if she was okay, if she wanted to sit down for a bit. She, _of course_, brushed off his concern and assured him that she was fine.

_**But**_, she was not making _eye contact_.

Another sigh passed his lips. Now that he thought about it, this was a strange detail to remember. _Why_ would he notice something like that? It was so insignificant, but his hands had broken into a sweat as if he were nervous. He felt weak in the knees when he took a few steps forward. This made his lips draw down into a disgruntled frown. He had been **just fine** a few seconds ago, and it wasn't as if anything had changed in such a short amount of time- at least, not _physically_.

**Why was he acting so strange?**

Thinking back to the walk, again, he recalled when they were heading back to her home. She lived on a street with many window shops, so they often window shopped together. He spotted a pretty ring in the front of a jewelry store, and happily pointed it out to her.

_**But**_, she was not _interested_ in it.

The smile faded from his face when he saw her watery eyes turn away from him. Was she about to _cry_? Normally, she would blush at the thought of receiving a gift like that from him. She would change the subject with an awkward giggle, and he **loved** the sound of it. His sturdy digits wrapped around her own smaller, more delicate fingers in a silent gesture of support and safety. The look that crossed her face was a mix of shock and horror. He only wanted to help her.

_**But**_, she _let go_.

**Who was she afraid of?**

He froze in his tracks, allowing his arm to rest the umbrella, the object of his security, at his side. His face stung when the rain first began to hit his flesh, but the feeling ebbed away into numbness. Suddenly, he remembered**everything**. He could comprehend the meaning of every strange aspect he was experiencing. It fell into place in his mind; the fog had been cleared. Her words echoed in his thoughts, washing over his senses like acid, until he felt raw and exposed. She _must_ have felt the same way after the walk, when she crouched down at his feet, **in her own home**, and poured her heart out onto the floorboards.

'_Break up with me._

_Don't pretend you can't hear. I said, break up with me._

_I am scared. Not so much for me, anymore…_

_I am afraid for you._

_This disease, this __**cancer**__, taking over my body, is silently killing me!_

_I couldn't tell you. You didn't even notice. We were too happy._

_I almost forgot, too… __**almost**__._

_Every day, our relationship grows stronger as I grow weaker._

_Soon, you won't be able to let go of me. I can't bear that._

_I am too scared!_

…_I don't want you to fall asleep next to a hospital bed, hoping that I'll get better so we can go on more walks, or so you can give me a ring one day. I don't want to shatter your hopes. I won't._

_So, let's break up. Leave now, and forget everything. _

_**Please**__! Please.'_

His mouth parted, and air rushed out of his lungs in _disbelief_. He had **quietly **left the house, unable to fully absorb what she was telling him, without even putting up a fight. He **allowed** her to push him out the front door. He didn't even **protest**. All he could see were her _tears_, falling from her cheeks like rain. He couldn't decide if they were tears of joy or despair, or maybe _**both**_. The grip on his umbrella slackened, as the shock had finally faded from his mind.

**How could he?**

He could feel sorrow wrap around his heart, squeezing it painfully with every beat. His throat tightened, brows creased, and tears welled up because **he** had let go.

**He**_ let go_.

Raising the back of his hand to cover his face, he closed his eyes and wept. She was scared _for_ him. She pretended to be brave _for_ him. She did it all out of_love_. And, he had done nothing to show that he loved her just as much. He hadn't kept her **safe**.

**Nothing.**

Minho opened his eyes, spotting the phone booth. Instinct told him to run for it, call her, tell her that he was coming back and could _**never**_ forget about her. But, she wouldn't answer. She'd _**never**_ let him come back. His chance was gone. He should have never went through that door. Tears blurred his vision, but he could see a man enter the phone booth. He had to accept that he was out of opportunities. He didn't keep her safe.

_He hadn't even tried._

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><p>Only Onew is left...<p>

As always, please review each chapter and let me know what you think! Thanks~


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